Letters of Laura Croft

this is my final term paper for my creative writing class she gave us complete freedom to come up with a creative writing piece whether it be a story short poem or otherwise. This is completely ficticious i now have knowledge that this name belongs to a real person but the identity in my story is compeltely made up. I wanted to write something jarring. Something no one else would think to write. So i wrote of a girl tormented until she became warped, by sexual mental and physical abuse. The girl trapped in the basement has found a nearly stubbed pencil and writes three recovered entries on unlined paper. When she is finished she shoves each one into a hole inside the concrete wall, which is the home of her only friend... a mouse. Clearly the girl is hallucinating as she has never seen this mouse but her mind is so broken she has clung to the only living "friend" she has left. IN the entries she describes the state of her mind and briefly reflects on her time in hell. You will notice some words are captilized. On microsoft word i had made this paper so that it appeared to be covered with blood and the capitol words you see were highlighted in white. As i cannot do this now i capitolized them instead. Inside these entries laura has left a message for her family. Read the whole piece... then go back and read only the capitolized words. This is my derranged composition i hope you enjoy.. as much as you can enjoy such a piece similiar to a one mr. edgar allan poe. Thank you

This letter. Will it ever reach BEYOND THE solidity of these walls, will these final words fall upon the deaf ears of the contemptuous STONE. I AM CRYING FOR air to breathe, to remember the sun. This darkness, so tangible it fills in me THE HOLES HE LEAVES BEHIND. He who is there in the dark, always the dark. He who unwilling forces INSIDE OF ME. I THINK THERE was once a girl inside.She cried to hard though, there WASN'T ENOUGH space. She drowned. Laura

A day forever engraved IN THE MEMORY OF the state of Washington, October 13, 2006. Seventeen year old Laura Croft was abducted walking HOME from dinner with a few school friends. She was never heard from again. Four years later the mystery MAY be finally unraveled. Explicitly graphic, pages of Laura’s horrifying confinement have been recovered as a few shreds of a secret journal she must have kept hidden were discovered.

I knew of colors, years ago, ALL OF THEM affecting a personal response, a certain stimulus of one’s emotion. I know only of one now. Black. My friend, my guillotine, my tormentor. I have found solace in the friendship o f one such lonely mouse. During certain times (of the day, or is it months), I hear the soft pitter of his feet. I have NEVER known such pleasure of company. For I have never seen him, my deepest thoughts he knows. I SHARE with him these notes, the final parts of me. Hi s silence is answer enough, for all the questions I cannot presume to bring forth. I’m sure he sees this permanent necklace I wear. The deep pain of bruised flesh. Is it the man who is cruel, or is it his hands? I have given up all else but YOUR COMPANY, my friend. Laura

A team of investigators, lead by Chief of police Albert Reily, found in the basement of Kempkey’s house, a decrepit mattress crudely tethered to the floor, generously covered in stains of unknown origins Thus far. DNA test results pending, the blood is believed to belong to one Laura Croft the same teenager that went missing already four years ago. Beneath the basement stairs, a kennel large enough to hold a large dog was revealed, chained to one of the six copper support beams of the lower floor. It is believed Laura was confined to this space during the time that lapsed between each physical and sexual beating administered. The parent’s of Laura Croft, Tom and Kelly, have yet to make a statement to the press, although they were present at the trial and the conviction of one Mr. David Kempkey. This was the final page recovered from the Memoir of Laura Croft, almost illegible is the handwriting.

The company and presence of any memories not within my prison within a prison has long been forgoed. In the defense of the mind’s psychology, I presume they left for protection. They did not belong where I now reside. I have no story worth telling, and no one but my indiscreet friend will have the knowledge of this succession. I will pass from this world indefinitely with terror in my eyes but emptiness in my heart. Who is the person I have become… Am I the girl or the miscreation, the monster? Above the floorboards creaking, I must hurry… goodbye dear friend and to all the people who have left me as I have left them. Console yourselves with the fated irony that this will bring me peace. I can hear the door turn and creak, I know not what day or time. Not even the year, of this infamy... Goodbye... From prison I am freed. Laura

Medical Coroner, Sherry Parks performed the official autopsy of Ms. Croft which was used in proof to testify against the defendant. “There were numerous lacerations from the thighs reaching up to the midline of the back.” Scars woven into her skin like self rising tattoos of pink and peach… “Although the cause of said lacerations is still unknown it appears to be from a thin blunt object, much like the handle of a golf club. Gynecology tests indicate forced sex determined by the brutality and overall condition of the patient’s navel region. This suggests a likely timeline of multiple year’s worth of sexual and physical abuse. Finally, the official cause of death was strangulation…Bruised handprints, conclusively the size of David Kempey’s, covered the patient’s entire throat, crushing her trachea.”

“We the Jury, find the alleged David Peter Kempkey, guilty of all charges and sentence him to death by lethal injection.”

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